


Carry Me

by Venustas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Destiel - Freeform, Don't read, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay, Gay Sex, LGBT, M/M, Romance, SPN - Freeform, Smut, Violence, basically if you're 12, gay relationships, human!Cas, nerd!dean, punk!Cas, punk!Castiel, spn au, supernatural alternate universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-05 00:17:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3097898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venustas/pseuds/Venustas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester is an honor roll student in high school. Castiel Novak is new and also a student in high school, but appears to be far from an honor roll student.</p><p>Dean comes from a family that grieves on Labor Day rather than celebrates. Though Castiel comes from the opposite kind of family and has perfect eyes, a perfect face and a perfect body, he still finds no enjoyment in the females that throw him attention.</p><p>Hardships will put each of them through a challenge that they might not make it through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The room was a soft, blue tinge, and the curtains remained an opaque black. The tan carpet ran throughout the room as did the scattered articles of dirty clothing. Shirts near his bedroom door where he would take his them off directly after returning home from school, lay crumpled in their own heap. Socks sit piled at the end of his bed where he would kick them off during the night. The room didn't have a particular scent other than the same cologne he would atomize on the collar of his shirts each morning after dressing.

"God dammit, Dean!" The voice was gruff and stained with hatred. "Get your ass down here!" Fear shattered his daily routine of events and he skittered out of his room and down the stairs. There stood a man with alcohol lying on his breath and cracked lips. He stumbled slightly at the ungodly sight of his step-father. "I told you," His words were slurred and tired. "To clean your goddamn mess up!"

He hadn't made the mess, though he knew any argument or debate would lead directly to the belt. A thin scar ran down his cheek from the last time he had disagreed with his step-father. "Sir, yes, sir." He waited impatiently.

"Dismissed," he muttered whilst stumbling away. His step-father had been in the military. He fought well and had been a good father to him until '03. He had been in the field. His comrades were by him, but he didn't signal for them to get back in time. He lost 5 men to the explosion. His depression was diagnosed and he was returned home for further medical analysis.

He gave a small salute and turned to clean the botch of broken glass and bits of mud tracked in on the floor. His mother left a long time ago, but for a different reason than most would assume. She hadn't worked from home. She traveled a lot and her work had yet to bring her home. It had been 3 years. He lifted his fingers to the thin, long scar on his cheek as the thought surfaced.

"New kid today," Gabriel muttered. The lesson over the trig functions did not seem to appeal to him. Dean glanced over with a raised brow, implying a he was almost interested. "Castiel," he chortled. "He sounds gay as hell." Dean shifted uncomfortably at the misuse of the word that had described him since his first kiss.

He coughed lightly and cleared his throat. "How, erm- how do you know it's a guy?" Gabriel turned to look at him.

"He's everywhere, well word about him is. All the girls are raving over him." Dean sighed as his eyes panned up towards the board and scribbled down the notes sufficiently.

"I guess," he whispered.

***

The next class, Gabriel's passed on rumor proved itself. Castiel sat square in the back of the room. His cheeks heated at the sight of such a beautiful boy. His eyes shimmered in any light; a bewildering, vivid blue. His fine, dark-brown hair curled at the tips even as he drove his hand straight back through it. His leather jacket hung open, a Beatles t-shirt peeking out from underneath. A bad boy, Dean's thought rolled loosely in his mind.

"Winchester," the teacher called out. He spun his attention towards the teacher. "Sit, or you're going to be marked tardy." she growled. He glanced over at Castiel thinking all eyes would be on him, including the damned blue ones. Surprisingly, they were directed at his arms, looking anywhere except for other human beings. Dean's eyes trailed down Castiel's body, even if he didn't want to, which he did. The black jeans shaped his legs perfectly. He almost couldn't take his eyes off of him.

The day was relentless. It was nearing the end of the semesters, thus causing every class to throw a study guide in his face. He couldn't go home just yet, his father would disturb his homework.

"Dean," Sherran perked up from behind the counter. "Do you want your usual?" He nodded with a smile and say in his place by the corner window. He unzipped his bag, pulling out all of the study guides he had finished in class. He began with Physics, reading through the basic formulas and laws. "Here ya'are honey," Sherran placed a plate of fries in front of his books and a soda next to his hand.

"Thanks, Sher." She sat across the booth and folded her hands with a grin. "What?" He glanced up.

"How was school today?" She pushed.

"It was fine. There were lots of study guides." He flipped through his book, trying to focus. She stared, waiting. "And there's a new guy." She chuckled lightly.

"Is he cute?" Her inquisition was cut off by the ringing of the bell on the door. She glanced over and excused herself. He continued flipping through the study guides and his book until he looked up to reach for a fry. A pair of combat boots trailed their way over the the edge of the table.

"Dan, is it?" The voice startled him. He looked up into the face of a blue-eyed man.

"Dean," he corrected. "And you're Castiel?" The man nodded. His heart palpitated rapidly, almost as if he were going to have a heart attack at any moment. Castiel sat across from Dean, waiting for his order as well.

"What's it like?" Dean glanced up from his book, trying to hide his emotion. He shook his head in confusion. "What's it like being all smart?" He shook his jacket off and tossed it in the booth behind him.

"I'm not smart," He somehow took the question as an insult. "I just pay attention, that's all." Castiel put his hands up in defeat.

"Don't need to get-" His phone buzzed and he looked at it, standing quickly. "I have to go." He left immediately. Dean would have stayed there, but he saw the black jacket peeking out from the other booth and he stood abruptly and ran out.

The cold night stung his skin, but he ran towards the only car in the lot. "Castiel," he called out. "You left your-" A large noise came from the other side of the car and he backed up. "Castiel?" The smell of alcohol was almost overpowering. "Gah!" Pain ripped through his head. He fell to the ground in fetal position. Someone began kicking into his stomach. The kicks made him feel ill. His eyelids fluttered open to see the attacker getting mauled by another man. He sat up with a groan, squinting towards the fight. Castiel was hitting an unidentified person. The man appeared to be drunk.

"Don't fucking touch him," He pushed the attacker down roughly and walked towards Dean. He knelt slowly, careful not to startle him. "Dean," His voice was no longer stern and rough. It was smooth and soft. "Are you alright?" He looked up a bit seeing the blood rolling down his forehead. Before Dean could answer, Castiel took his shirt off, and placed it over the wound. Dean grimaced in pain and clenched his fists, his back arching. "Shh," he hushed lightly. He picked up Dean and carried him into the diner.

"Dean!" Sherran made her way over to him quickly. "What happened?" She stared into Castiel's eyes.

"He was assaulted," Castiel could hardly understand what happened. Dean muttered something inaudible. "The man who assaulted him was drunk, but I took care of him." Castiel set him down on the counter and placed his jacket over him. He muttered something again. "I can't hear you." he whispered.

Dean tried to get off of the counter, but had managed to only make his stomach hurt more. He covered his mouth, squinting his eyes. "Dean, are you okay?" His arm fell to his side and he was gone, just like that. Drowsiness had overcome him.

***

'What the hell?' His sides hurt as did his head. He tried to get up gently, but fell to the floor. He groaned, pulling himself up. Limping, he got downstairs. It was a long walk, but he had made it...barely.

"Good morning, Dean." His step-father sat at the table, reading a newspaper and sipping coffee rather than alcohol. The sight of it was so foreign.

"Good morning, sir." Dean wheezed.

"How are you feeling?" His step-father stood and walked to the stove, dumping eggs into a plate. He was confused. Had he done something?

"Could be better, sir." He said, pain gripping his throat.

He placed the plate of eggs in front of him and poured a glass of juice for him. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that." He took a gulp of his coffee and scooted in, sitting up. "Dean," he began. "I want you to know that things are going to be different."

"Why, sir?"

His step-father took in a breath. "I'm not going to let what happened last night, happen again." he promised. "You could've gotten killed and your mother looks to me to take care of you."

The confusion still stuck to him. "So, you aren't mad, sir?"

"No, I'm not. It wasn't your fault." He pulled a hand down his beard scruff. "Plus, I feel she's going to want to see you alive and well next month."

Dean's eyes widened in shock. "Mom's coming home?" He glanced down at his scars from the blades that he had dragged across his skin many times before. He thought about the disappointment his mother would feel if she saw the scars.

"Yes, Dean, she is."


	2. 911

He took in a breath and pulled his sleeves down. "I guess we're going to have to clean this place up," he looked down and smiled a bit. "Aren't we...Dad?" His step-father grinned pretentiously.

"Yes, Dean," he stood and walked over, holding out his hand. "We are." Dean stood shakily and shook his hand as firmly as he could.

He arrived to school late, but in time for class with Castiel. He shied his eyes away every time the vivid blue when it glared at him. Was Castiel angry? What could he have done wrong?

The bell had rang, but he struggled to collect his books quickly. His nausea was threatening and his head hurt like hell. "How's your head?" Castiel came up behind him. Dean glanced up rather quickly, stumbling back a little and clenching his teeth from the revolting feeling in his stomach.

"It's fine," he answered roughly. "I need to go to class though." Castiel stayed where he was.

"Do you want me to help you?" Castiel persisted. It was almost like he was giving into the need to have sympathy for him.

"No," he growled. Castiel stepped back. He didn't appear upset that he had snapped at him. Though, anger still rippled through him. Dean pulled his bag over his shoulder, fighting the pain. He walked out as stable as he could.

He returned to the diner, knowing that even though he was attacked, Sherran would want to see him. "Dean, honey, how are you feeling?" She trotted over to him, careful not to touch.

"I'm fine, thanks Sher." He smiled and went over to his booth and released the bag from his shoulder, wincing.

"Do you want your usual?" He knew he wouldn't be able to keep it down. Though, he still nodded. He placed his head on his folded arms.

The diner door rang and he looked up to see the same leather jacket that had pulled him into the urge to run outside. Castiel saw Dean and turned his head away quickly. "Sherran, are you here?"

He felt bad about getting so angry at Castiel. He knew that Castiel had saved his life and he owed him an apology. "She's here, she's just in the back." Castiel ignored him and walked to the bathroom. Dean followed as quickly as he could.

He pushed the door open to see Castiel leaning against the wall on his phone. "Castiel, come on," he tried. "I'm sorry."

He knew it wouldn't be that easy, and it wasn't. "Why don't you go snap at someone else." Dean felt the anger pulsing through him. "Clearly, you don't have much appreciation for anything."

Dean took steps forward until he was right in Castiel's face area. "Then maybe you should have just let him kill me." Castiel was taken aback by the suggestion. He shook his head, almost like he refused.

"That's not who I am," he growled. "And I know that you don't deserve that." He left his spot from the wall and turned around until he was facing Dean. He stared into the deep green of his eyes and placed his hands on Dean's shoulders.

"Castiel," he breathed. "What are you doing?" Castiel didn't waste time pushing him against the wall and touching his forehead to Dean's.

"I've been thinking non-stop about you for the past 24 hours." He refused to let Dean answer. Instead, he placed his lips on Dean's lightly. The movement was soft and nervous, but the feeling proved to be addictive.

Dean turned his head slightly. "I can't do this." his voice was full of remorse. "Not here," He didn't feel comfortable being in public and just letting it happen.

"Why?" Castiel had fear in his eyes that he would be rejected.

Dean sighed. "I'm not...'out of the closet' yet," Castiel's face relaxed at the explanation.

"So," he began. "Do you want to come over tomorrow, then?" he suggested. Dean smiled and nodded.

The day lingered as he waited class through class to finish the day. He never saw Castiel that day and he didn't show up to class. The seat he decided on was cold and bare. Dean had hardly known Castiel for any amount of time that appeared to be significant, but the feeling of finally liking someone was overwhelming.

"Dean," Gabriel tried capturing his attention. "What's up with you?" Dean flinched back at the voice of his friend. He lowered his brows at the question.

"What? Nothing," he muttered. The bell sounded and he tried his best not to let his face show any discomfort. He still had not eaten for the sole purpose of not being able to keep it down. He just wanted to see him.

He tried the diner to see if he could spot him there, but still he was nowhere to be seen. "Sher, have you seen Castiel?" Sherran turned, her shoulder length, red hair flinging behind her. She shook her head and immediately her expression turned to a worried one.

"No, honey, I haven't." Disappointment set in. He nodded his head slightly in acknowledgment of her answer.

He sat in his bed with headphones blaring music at a rather obnoxious volume. He wanted to be able to eat something. He could hardly keep down water, let alone a meal.

A cold hand rested on his shoulder and he jumped, the sore muscles aching at the sudden movement. "What the-" He stared straight up at Castiel. Why was he so cold? "Castiel," he blinked. "Hi."

Castiel smiled at him then sat on the bed. "You wanna go?" Dean cocked his head to the side in confusion. "...to my house?" Dean's eyes perked up in comprehension.

"Oh, yeah, definitely," He stood and grabbed his phone from the nightstand.

The walls of his house were a shade darker than maroon. The cream accent color made it seem warm and inviting. The smell of fresh baked pastries softened the overwhelming feeling of a new place. It smelled as if Dean's mom was home again and she had just made cinnamon rolls. "Cas," his mother called from the kitchen. "I need your help deciding on some fruit." Everything was clean and pristine, it reminded him of when he was little and his real father was around. His mom would clean all of the time while his father worked all day, six days a week.

"Mom, we have guests." His voice didn't seem dull like most teenage boys talking to their mom. He sounded as if he was genuinely okay with being around her. She let out an "oh!" and hurried out of the kitchen.

"Cas, you didn't tell me you were going to have friends over." She smiled at Dean and held out her hand. Dean gladly shook it...nervously. "I'm Rachel," she introduced. "But you can also call me Rach-Swizzle." Castiel began to chuckle.

"Mom, I think he's okay with just 'Rachel'," She let out a laugh and nodded politely at Dean.

"Okay, boys," she smiled. "I'm making a smoothie, but I'll leave you be." She turned and walked back to the kitchen. Castiel and his mom appeared to be good friends.

He started walking and Dean followed. They trailed upstairs into a decently sized bedroom. His bed was a platform style and the blankets were a deep indigo with galaxy-like swirls. A knock on the door made Dean turn quickly. "Cas, I'm heading to the store for some more milk. We don't have enough for the smoothies." He nods and she shuts the door yelling, "I'll be back in 45 minutes or so."

"So what do you want to do?" Dean sits down on the bed and leans back onto his forearms. The idea didn't appear intriguing to him when he did it, but it was clear lust had built in Castiel's eyes.

"I prefer what we did yesterday," he smiled and walked to the door, locking it. "Just in case," he informs. He sat on the bed and placed a hand on Dean's heated cheeks. His green eyes trailed from Castiel's lips to his ocean-blue eyes. Castiel leaned in, placing his lips on the tense, softness. Dean seemed to be uncomfortable at the start of it all.

He began to relax and give in. Passion aroused the kiss. Castiel leaned back and stared at him. "God, you're beautiful." he whispered.

They played checkers for a bit, laughing every time Dean was kinged. Dean tried his best to keep balance when he stood, but the absence of energy penetrated any impending stability he had intended on having when he rose. His steps faltered and he grabbed at the edge of the bed.

"Dean," Castiel started over. "What's wrong, baby?" He placed a hand on his back. Dean's presence was already disappearing into sleep. "Dean, come on, what's wrong? Stay with me, please." He didn't know what to do. "I'm calling 911."


End file.
